Bored Scene
by Jambon Electrique
Summary: Vernon is in one of his moods, and decides to escape his home. Up to T in the final chapter.
1. Bored Scene

Bored Scene

It was a dark, rainy day, as was the norm around Number 4, Privet Drive. Vernon Dursley was crept up in a dark corner of his residence, grumbling gutturally. He was sick of all the torrential downpours, and longingly hoped for something to do in this horrible weather.

At that moment, Vernon's wife, Petunia, walked up to him, and the following conversation ensued.

"Vernon, whatever is the matter?"

"I am sick of all the torrential downpours, and I longingly hope for something to do in this horrible weather."

"Is this going to be a problem?" inquired Petunia. "You've spent so much time up here you're almost as devilishly handsome as Dudley!" She tried her best to avoid speaking of "fat" and "gluttony" anywhere in the proximity of her darling son.

"It certainly poses no obstacle for me," Vernon replied. "Why, you should try this sometime."

Ignoring Vernon's comments, Petunia continued, all the while making grotesque clicking noises with her elongated neck. "Perhaps a short spell away from home would do you a jolly good job," she suggested.

"Nah," her husband refused. "Yesterday, I took a video rental to Mrs. Figg, and I ended up feeling rather worse."

"Is that seriously how far you can walk now? I have to say, I'm impressed."

It was Vernon's turn to ignore. "Petunia," he said, "I have a vision. I have a vision that we should just take a car and drive away!"

"Ooh, a car trip," Petunia said, remaining calm while Vernon's jugular vividly pulsated and his face morphed into a brilliant shade of crimson, then violet. "That sounds nice." She then left him to mope on his own.


	2. Hydroescapist

Hydro-Escapist

It turns out that Vernon Dursley, as tough as he is, is by no means a skilled temper-thrower. After an extreme bout of furiousness, Vernon actually tends to cry. He knew this as well as anyone, so he headed downstairs for toast before he could bring himself to weep.

Once downstairs, Petunia snidely remarked, "Vernon. What a surprise."

"Daddy, where are your tears?" questioned Dudley.

"Daddy does not, for the final time, produce any tears of any way, shape, or form," Vernon nearly yelled, sharply cutting the last five syllables.

"But you cried when Grandpa died," Dudley pointed out.

"I did not. It's just that my mother was so elderly it made me sad," Vernon sobbed.

"Then what are these drops on your face, Daddy?"

"_These_, honeybunches, are a reaction to excess water levels. I drink a lot of water," he replied hoarsely. Rapidly changing the subject, Vernon said, "C'mon, everyone, into the car."

Vernon Dursley drove on through unforgiving dark clouds and depressing sights of lonely fields of wheat. It did not make him any happier.

"Daddy's not so happy," Petunia informed Dudley, who was about to interrogate his increasingly frustrated father once more. "Do you want to play some of your video games?"

"Heck, no," objected Dudley. "Can't you buy me a game that doesn't include anthropomorphic biological specimens? Look at how much these insipid pastimes are nonchalantly forcing me to comprehend!"

"No. Look at you, Dudley! You can now say a word longer than 'cat' now!" Petunia argued.

"What about 'food'?"

"You never say that anyway," said Dudley's mother blatantly. "You say 'hungry', which has three fewer letters that 'food'."

The compact continued to lumber along. After a while, the trio came to a plain riddled with seemingly haunted ruins of an old building, specked with multiple warning signs, although one of them was about Kazakhstani coffee.

"Ooh, a pancake house!" the Dursleys exclaimed in unison. They proceeded to escape their automobile and head toward the ramparts, which were not a pancake house but equally as magical.


	3. Intrusion

Vernon ran into an invisible barrier. "It seems as if I just ran into an invisible barrier!" he cried.

Dudley drove his insurmountable flesh into the wall, bringing it down with a resonant _crack_! He revealed a large hall flooded with bewitched chandeliers, which was devoid of life.

"Can't believe such a mesmerizing place would have no service," muttered Vernon.

A flood of teenagers in long, dark cloaks spilled into the room, as if on cue. They took their seemingly assigned places beside the long wooden tables.

"Oh, you are so dead!" burst Vernon. "No one takes _my _spot!"

"Don't be a jerk," said Petunia. "Hey, is that Harry? Get out of there, Harry!"

Harry Potter turned around in disbelief. How the heck could he have missed that unlit candle on the chandelier? He proceeded to have it repaired. "Professor…"

"I don't think cousin Harry wants to talk to us, mum," observed Dudley. 

"Well, finally! What young adult says 'mommy' anymore!" Petunia answered with her own observation.

Vernon made an angry growl. "Someone get me my order, or I swear, I will pretend to be the food department and have this place turned into a haggis market!"

"Chandelier lights are none of your business, Potter!" Severus Snape spat. At that moment, he noticed two hulking gluttons and their slender female counterpart. "Potter, are you familiar with the intruders positioned awkwardly inside a hole?"

"Um, no, I don't," Harry stammered. "They, um, appear to be—the Coast Guard!"

"I sense no requirement for such," Snape replied, with a hint of frustration and twelve times the furiousness. "Get your guardian …" Snape muttered a rather taboo term in our modern society.

"Could you not say that? I'm sure young children are aware of our conversation."

"Why, of course," Snape said kindly. He then emitted some terminology that Harry was sure would make some people feel very dirty and criminal.

"My mother did not!" Harry jumped. "She's dead!" He cut Snape off before he could elicit another "witty" response, presumably one about how Lily Potter passed.

"I have no time for your silly games. No one has infiltrated Hogwarts since its inception, and your gelatinous relatives can just maneuver in like it was just a pancake house?" Snape held up his hand and walked away.

"Hey, look! That must be our waitress!" Vernon joyfully proclaimed, pointing at Snape. "I would like a buttermilk pancake with multiple species of berries," he said, unaware.

"Don't," Petunia warned, seeing as Snape was about to throw in a detail about where he wanted to shove the berries.

"You are not welcome here. Get out."

"And why would that be, punk?" Vernon asked, emphasizing the last syllable.

"We are highly trained wizards. Well, except for Potter, Weasley, and Granger. You are not a highly trained wizard, nor are your hideous offspring and your deformed and malfunctioning wife."

"I will have you know, fool, that my wife can function just properly. She hasn't taken a laxative in years!" Vernon retaliated.

"Wow. That's really immature. No matter. I will have all three of you banished from here in the next five seconds." Snape raised his wand and began the first phonemes of the Killing Curse.

"Your voice is beautiful," said Vernon.


	4. Fighting Hertz

"Say what you will," Snape said, cracking a smile. "I'm-a kill you anyway."

"Wait!" screamed Petunia. "First provide us with some nourishment."

"The only nourishment you're going to get will be from your darling family's old, cracked skull!" Snape roared. "Avada…"

Dudley charged into Severus Snape like an amok snowplow, with Vernon performing a largely grotesque splash onto both. Many varieties of teeth clobbered into one another, and as a result, became detached. Petunia looked around for another "waiter", refusing to give up her ladylike poise.

"Dude," said Ron, "I think you might want to see what the heck is going around with Snape and your dysfunctional uncle."

"I think not," Harry replied. He playfully twisted Ron's hair. "You're so dumb," he chuckled.

"Well, aren't you even a bit interested in what your aunt is screaming on about? Perhaps her undergarments caught on fire."

"You _would_ like to see that, Ron."

"There is no way you can prove that."

Meanwhile, through the yawning chasm that once was not, foul mouths marched on through the forest. "Would you stop?" Petunia asked both men. "You men are all the same, drinking your mocha while chopping wood."

"We are but the superior race," replied Vernon arrogantly. "You women are all the same, curtseying to hobos and such." At that moment, Hagrid arrived upon the scene, not to fight, but to check on the Forbidden Forest's centaurs. Petunia curtseyed.

"I'm quite in awe that nobody has done a thing to stop them," Ron remarked. "You would think McGonagall or something would've heard them."

"Snape heard 'em," Harry said, jutting his thumb in the general direction of the war of words. He then turned to the table of professors, who, one by one, were conjuring pillows. "This is ridiculous," Harry admitted. He marched outside, partly because he was angry, and partly because he had to use the bathroom.


	5. 3Coarse End

"You guys want to stop verbally abusing each other?" Harry asked.

"Not really," Vernon replied.

Harry trod over to his uncle and whispered in his ear, "Calm down. Snape'll run out of professor words soon."

"What words does he know?" objected Dudley. Vernon, at that moment, uttered the world's longest swear. Well, actually, he simply strung ten separate swears together. Snape could not understand how he could be a hermaphrodite and yet have four children with separate individual.

Dumbledore was busy attempting to conquer insomnia in his cushy chair which he recently bought and named Chad. However, he was suddenly alerted by a resounding curse originating from a heavy, angry voice. He immediately stood up from his chair, relieved himself, and proceeded to investigate the commotion. Once outside, he confronted and cornered Harry's three relatives. "You five seem to be lacking in substantial brainpower," he proclaimed. He stroked his mustache and waved his slender digits in front of Vernon's face. "Don't—even talk to me-uh."

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," growled Snape, "As you are, as I can see, clung to this tree; I suppose this will be a perfect time for the _coup de grace_." He raised his wand and began to recite the Killing Curse.

"We will NOT tolerate such language!" Petunia cried. "Dudley is just a young boy!"

"Gosh, why does everybody have to have such a boundless vocabulary?" Vernon muttered to himself. "Next thing you know, the King himself will come over here and talk about his cousin's violent outbursts!" To keep with the not being cliché, the King never did arrive.

Petunia made one last attempt at peace. "If we promise to never again intrude on such property, will you set us free?"

"What are you?" Snape grumbled? "Some fun little terriers? You ignorant Muggles are all but the same. Have some respect for once!"

"Stop!" Harry unknowingly yelled.

"There will be no rescue for your dear uncle now."

"No. I want to be the one who does the spell."

"Nuh-uh," objected Snape. "Of course, I expected as such. Your tiny little cranium obviously would not remember when I called dibs in that Potions class. You were too busy flirting with that insipid redhead over there to pay any attention to me at all."

Now it was Ron's turn to speak. "Listen, Snape—"

"Professor Snape."

"Professor, I understand you are desperate, but you really shouldn't resort to picking on underage boys!"

"You, sir, are breaking some fundamental rules of the boundaries of K+. Detention! However, instead of whatever boring punishment my fellow educators would wish to inflict upon you, I have risen to the challenge. Three hours of G movies. No excuses."

When the three turned around, to Snape's dismay, the Dursleys had long escaped.


End file.
